Edge Does Quality Control
by RogueGeek
Summary: Jessica (me) is about to sink to a new low and write a Mary Sue. Luckily, a surprise visit from Edge changes her mind


I sat there, staring at the screen with a murderous glint in my eyes. My top lip curled into a sneer as I pounding away fruitlessly on the keys. But nothing was sounding right; nothing was worth the effort it was taking to type it. I was having one of THOSE kinds of nights. A Writer's Block kinda night. I mean, I knew I wanted to write a story, but nothing was coming to mind. No fantastical plot ideas. No crazy characters. And because of that I was all set to begin what was known as a 'Mary Sue'. Yes, I had sunk that low. Even I was ashamed with myself as I began to dutifully plan out the setting … Should I be the long lost sibling or daughter of a famous WWF superstar? Or, should I make myself the hottest new female wrestler around? Should I have every wrestler fall madly in love with me and want to marry me? Or, should I set my sights on one particular star and stay faithful and loyal to him? Ah, the choices … the choices. And so, I started my story…  
  
***Jessica stood outside the arena with a strange expression on her face. She hadn't been able to believe she had gotten tickets at the last notice. She had been sure they would be all sold out. After all, the WWF was hugely popular in her small town and it was a crazy twist of fate that they'd even stopped in the place anyway. Sure, it was just a house show, but generally they passed up the smaller cities in favor of the bigger ones. Truth be told, Jessica wasn't complaining. In fact, she was simply ecstatic over the fact that she'd get to see her favorite superstar, Edge, in person! Yes, it was common knowledge that Jessica was obsessed with Edge. She talked about him nonstop and had covered her wall with posters of the blonde Canadian--***  
  
"Aww! You're obsessed with me! That's so cute!"  
  
My hands darted away from the keyboard as I looked around suspiciously. Something odd was going on because I swore I could have heard a voice. True, I had my stereo playing, but that wouldn't account for what I'd heard. My eyes narrowed behind my glasses and I took a deep breath. 'Alright,' I told myself in a calming, soothing voice. 'You didn't hear anything. It was just the CD. Or maybe someone outside was yelling. Face it, girl, you're completely alone in the basement. There's no way anyone could have been talking to you'. Talking to myself helped a little and I began to calm down. Being the victim of an overactive imagination wasn't pleasant, as I could attest to. More often then not, I'd find my own brain playing tricks on me as if every day was its own personal April 1st.  
  
I took another breath as I quickly scanned what I had just wrote. I felt a twinge of guilt when I thought about what I was doing. I had promised myself that I'd never sink so low as to write a 'Mary Sue' but at the moment, I was desperate. I needed to write something!! Once more, the clacking of the keys filled the room as I continued on with my exercise in boredom.  
  
***--With posters of the blonde Canadian. But, honestly, who could blame her? Edge was the finest specimen of a man she'd ever encountered. There was simply something about him that took her breath away. True, she had never really been attracted to pretty-boys, but the first time she had seen Edge, all that changed. He had captured her heart from the moment he had appeared on the ramp and walked down to the ring. And now, Jessica had the chance to see him in person. She has grateful that she had sprung for the front row seat because he'd be SO close. Almost close enough to touch. Actually, if she was lucky, he WOULD be close enough to touch.  
  
A shiver of anticipation danced up her spine as she clutched her ticket in sweaty hands. There was no way she was letting go of that piece of paper because without it, she wouldn't be able to get a first hand view of Edge. She felt as if something special was going to happen that night. As if she was meant to be there—***  
  
"Of course something special's going to happen. You're going to see me, aren't you?"  
  
Agh! That voice again! Where was it coming from! I was beginning to get a little freaked out as my head whipped from side to side. Maybe my dumb little sister was playing a prank on me. No … wait, she was out for the evening with her friends. The basement was completely deserted as I was the only one down here. At least, I thought I was the only one down here. I filled my lungs with yet another deep breath and I prayed that I wasn't having some kind of boredom breakdown.  
  
"Who's there?" I finally called in a shaking voice. A moment passed. No answer. Another moment. Still no answer. Slowly, I began to relax when suddenly—  
  
"Well, aren't you going to keep writing? I mean, I can't wait to see how we meet and what causes me to fall desperately in love with you."  
  
"AAH!" This time, I was so surprised that I actually let out a high- pitched squeal of alarm. Now THAT couldn't have been just my imagination because I'd heard the voice clear as a bell! I finally came to the brilliant conclusion that I wasn't alone in the room, but who else could have been there? Slowly, I stood up and peered around the corner. Nothing there except an empty hallway. The TV room was empty, too.  
  
A sigh of relief pushed past my lips as I turned back to the computer desk. That sense of relief didn't last too long because in the chair I had just vacated, a figure sat. A shriek formed in my throat and I stumbled back, bouncing my butt against the hard concrete floor and yelping in pain. The figure in the chair glanced up and an amused smile flickered across his lips.  
  
"Surprise you?" he asked nonchalantly as he stood up and extended a hand. At first, I refused to touch it because I was sure that my fingers would pass right through his like a ghost. Finally, after standing there for a few minutes, he wrapped his digits around my wrist and hauled me to my feet. He was as solid as I was, which surprised me but not him.  
  
"No, I'm not a ghost," he chuckled as he sat back down at the keyboard. His gaze remained on me and I tried to think of something brilliant to say. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind and rather then embarrassing myself, I said nothing. Instead, I looked at him. I looked long and hard because there was something I recognized. Something about the long, blonde hair. The angular, attractive face and the fact that underneath his clothes he was hiding a wonderfully sculpted body. My eyebrows raised in surprise and suddenly I felt the need to sit down. I had come to the conclusion that Edge himself was sitting at my computer desk and casually reading the story I had begun to write.  
  
Suddenly, I wanted to curl up in a little ball and die of mortification. A deep blush stained my cheeks as I fought the urge to run over and delete everything I had typed. It took all my willpower not to blurt out 'Please don't read that!', and I sat in silence as his eyebrow arched and he glanced over at me.  
  
"So, what's going to happen next? Will our eyes meet in the crowd as I come down to the ring? Will we feel a deep, mystical connection that lets us know we were meant for each other? Then you'll try to get backstage, but Security will thwart your attempts until I show up and tell them it's all good. Then, we'll fall madly in love with each other and get married. That's usually how these things go."  
  
I opened my mouth but much to my chagrin, no words came out. I still hadn't wrapped my mind around the fact that Edge was sitting there, calmly discussing the direction of my story with me. Finally I massaged my forehead and stared at the blonde. The first wonderfully intelligent words out of my mouth were, "You're Edge, aren't you?" Wow … what an orator. Immediately I realized how lame that was, but Edge just grinned and nodded.  
  
"Yep. I'm Edge," he answered and crossed his arms over his chest. He quickly glanced at the computer screen before posing a question for me. "And you're Jessica, right?"  
  
I simply nodded. I was too embarrassed to do anything else.  
  
"So, I'm going to fall in love with you and we're going to live happily ever after. Will you turn out to be the hottest new female wrestler, too? Then maybe Test or Christian will try and steal you from me. Lot's of people work plot twists like those into their stories."  
  
I barely gave that remark a second thought as I attempted to figure out why Edge was here. What strange force of nature had plunked him down in the middle of my computer room. He caught my expression and grinned that wonderful grin of his.  
  
"Lemme guess," he said and tossed a few strands of blonde hair from his face. "You gotta be wondering what the heck I'm doing here, right?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
"Well, here's the deal. I'm used in so many fan fictions that I decided to start doing my own quality control. I hate it when my name is mentioned in an inferior product so I personally check every story that contains a trace of me. When it gets my stamp of approval, then the author is free to do whatever they like with it. Some people post them online, and others just distribute copies to friends and family. Either way, the story has to meet my own personal criteria before I allow it to be seen by any member of the general public." Edge nodded authoritatively and slung his arm over the back of the white computer chair. His lips twitched upwards in a half smile as he waited for my comments.  
  
"Oh," I said lamely. I was afraid to ask what he thought of my story because frankly, it was the most unoriginal piece of tripe I had ever sat down to write. If he decided not to put his seal of approval on it, I wasn't going to lose any sleep. In fact, I'd probably be grateful that my blonde Adonis had saved me the effort of actually finishing it.  
  
"Aren't you going to ask me what I think?" Edge finally said, pursing his lips and arching an eyebrow at me. "I mean, that's usually the biggest deal for all the authors I visit. They can't wait for me to read it and give them my approval."  
  
With a little shrug, I just shook my head. "Whatever," I said ambiguously. "You can tell me what you think if you want, but for the most part I'm ashamed that those words even came out of my brain. I had promised myself that I would never write a story like that one. Seriously, how could you fall in love with me when I know that you're happily married."  
  
Edge looked a little surprised and leaned forward in the chair. "You mean, you really don't want to hook up with me in the story? That's new … wow, I never expected that one. Well, don't you want to suddenly reveal that you're my long-lost sister then get hired by Vince McMahon as the next WWF Women's Champion? That's another really popular story line."  
  
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. "Nope," I said quickly. "I don't want to do that either. Honestly, how many long-lost sisters have you got now? Probably too many, if you ask me."  
  
"Geez, okay … What other kind of story would you want to write then? If you're not hooking up with me romantically or turning out to be a newly discovered sibling … what else is there?" Suddenly Edge paled slightly and ran his hands nervously through his blonde hair. "Er, you're not planning on … um … getting me together with Jason or Matt Hardy or someone, are you?"  
  
That caught me off guard because I had never really thought about a slash fiction. My eyes began to twinkle and Edge caught the look because his face blanched sharply and he stood up. "You know," I began in a contemplative voice, "now that you mention it … You and Matt Hardy WOULD make a cute couple…" I jumped up from where I had been sitting and grabbed Edge by the lapel of his coat. "Thanks for the idea, pretty-boy!" I grinned and shoved him aside. My bottom plunked down in the white computer chair and I deleted everything I had written up to that point. Now my fingers flew across the keys as new ideas flickered in my mind.  
  
***Adam Copeland had been feeling down that day; in fact, he hadn't even wanted to go the arena. He would have rather stayed locked up in his plush hotel room and watched television until eleven o'clock at night. The only thing that got the blonde out of bed was the thought of seeing a certain high-flying young man with thick, dark hair. But so far, there had been no sign of Matt Hardy anywhere and Adam had been at the arena for over an hour. He had asked a few of the boys backstage if they had seen the elder Hardy, but all answers had been in the negative.  
  
The blonde Canadian gritted his teeth uncomfortably as he pushed open the locker room door and collapsed on the bench. Where the heck could Matt be—***  
  
"Alright! Fine! Pair up Matt Hardy and me up … See if I care!" Edge sounded like a pouting child and I just cast him an amused grin.  
  
"Don't worry. I promise you'll like this story. I won't even get too graphic when I have you and Matt finally, er, physically declare your love for one another. It'll be tasteful, I swear. If it were a movie, I'd make sure it could carry a PG-13 rating. It'll be all nice and sweet and sugary."  
  
Edge looked balefully in my direction. "It better be," he finally said in his most threatening tone. "Because if it isn't, I won't give it my seal of approval and then you'll never be able to show it to anyone. And at least you're not writing another pointless 'Mary Sue'. You have NO idea how tired I get of those things."  
  
"Oh, I could imagine," I said absently as I continued to plunk out my latest idea for a story. Suddenly a beeping noise interrupted my work and I glanced up curiously at Edge. He was checking a small, black device and he looked tired.  
  
"Darn! I gotta go! Someone just started another story about me. It says here that she's planning on getting me romantically involved with … AGH! I'm gonna be romantically involved with Jazz! She scares me! I have to go put a stop to this!"  
  
Edge ran up the stairs and out the door. I could hear him hailing a taxicab and as quickly as that, he was gone. I was alone once more with a bit of inspiration and the feeling that my writer's block was officially over. 


End file.
